


It Can Always Get Worse

by lucymonster



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Drabble Sequence, Gang Rape, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Public Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23454145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: Three hours into his assignment on theNight Buzzard, Armitage is as close to the end of his rope as Kylo Ren has ever dragged him.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Knights of Ren/Kylo Ren
Comments: 17
Kudos: 42
Collections: Party in the GFFA: Star Wars Flash Exchange 2020





	It Can Always Get Worse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Filigranka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/gifts).



> Translation into Russian is available at <https://ficbook.net/readfic/9263905> thanks to Izverg.

The worst part is the squalour. 

Working with the Knights of Ren would be bad enough from the comfort of a well kept fleet command ship. But the _Night Buzzard_ stinks of smoke and blood and human sweat, its halls trodden with mud, its vents clogged with debris. The guest cabin bedsheets are unwashed and stained with something greasy. The tortured ship’s engines spew a constant stream of noxious gas that clouds all view of the stars outside. 

Three hours into the assignment, Armitage is as close to the end of his rope as Kylo Ren has ever dragged him.

* * *

The worst part is the lack of discipline. Ren, so willing to find fault with Armitage’s troops, lets his Knights slouch around at leisure. They play dice, tell crude jokes, even drink on the job.

Spilt liquor: the closest thing this ship has ever seen to disinfectant.

‘Have a beer with us,’ gurgles the one with anti-ox filters in his mask. Non-human mouth or broken vocoder – impossible to say. ‘Might loosen you up enough to get that stick out.’

Loosen up. On duty. ‘No thank you,’ says Armitage, overlooking the crude innuendo.

Anti-ox’s posture shifts subtly. ‘Please, general. I insist.’

* * *

As always when Kylo Ren is involved, it goes wrong faster than a sane mind can track. ‘Has anyone ever checked?’ the one called Trudgen says, spinning a knife on one gloved finger. ‘Look how he sits. It must be wedged up there real good.’

‘Maybe he likes it there,’ says Anti-ox. ‘Is that what you like, general? A good hard stick up your ass?’

The worst part is the way Ren smirks as his six pet brutes descend on Armitage. ‘Have another beer, Hux,’ he says, kicking back, languid and detached. ‘You’ll prefer being drunk for this. Trust me.’

* * *

They chain him to a bolt low on the wall, naked on all fours on the filthy deck. His gut sloshes with the beer they poured down his throat, and the worst part is the napkin they use to dab the spillage from around his mouth with mocking gentleness.

Why do these primitive thugs have napkins aboard in the first place?

The worst part is the first thrust. Armitage can’t see who it is, doesn’t want to know. It hurts.

The worst part is how bad it _hurts._

The worst part is their laughter as they take turns raping him.

* * *

At some point Armitage passes out. When he wakes he’s still chained, and his insides ache like they’ve never ached before. The thought of them fucking his unconsious body makes bile rise.

The floor’s softer than it should be. There’s a cushion beneath his head.

‘Good morning,’ says Kylo Ren’s voice behind him. ‘Don’t try to get up. I’ve sent my Knights out field, so you’re off duty now. Rest until they get back.’

‘No turn for you?’ Armitage spits.

A humourless laugh. ‘Sorry, Hux. I don’t see you that way.’

He means it. That’s the worst part of all.


End file.
